Fingersmith by Fingersmith(v1.0)

Author:Fingersmith(v1.0)[htm] [Fingersmith(v1.0)[htm]]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-31T18:28:14+00:00

She has come to Briar to ruin me, to cheat me and do me harm. Look at her, I tell myself. See how slight she is, how brown and trifling! A thief, a little fingersmith—! I think I will swallow down my desire, as I have swallowed down grief, and rage. Shall I be thwarted, shall I be checked—held to my past, kept from my future—by her? I think, I shan't. The day of our flight draws near. I shan't. The month grows warmer, the nights grow close. I shan't, I shan't—

'You are cruel,' Richard says. 'I don't think you love me as you ought. I think—' and he glances, slyly, at Sue—'I think there must be someone else you care for…'

Sometimes I see him look at her, and think he has told her. Sometimes she looks at me, so strangely—or else her hands, in touching me, seem so stiff, so nervous and unpractised—I think she knows. Now and then I am obliged to leave them alone together, in my own room; he might tell her, then.

What do you say, Suky, to this? She loves you!

Loves me? Like a lady loves her maid?

Like certain ladies love their maids, perhaps. Hasn't she found little ways to keep you close about her?—Have I done that? Hasn't she feigned troublesome dreams?— Is that what I have done? Has she had you kiss her? Careful, Suky, she doesn't try to kiss you back…

Would she laugh, as he said she would? Would she shiver? It seems to me she lies more cautiously beside me now, her legs and arms tucked close. It seems to me she is often wary, watchful. But the more I think it, the more I want her, the more my desire rises and swells. I have come to terrible life—or else, the things about me have come to life, their colours grown too vivid, their surfaces too harsh. I flinch, from falling shadows. I seem to see figures start out from the fading patterns in the dusty carpets and drapes, or creep, with the milky blooms of damp, across the ceilings and walls.

Even my uncle's books are changed to me; and this is worse, this is worst of all. I have supposed them dead. Now the words—like the figures in the walls—start up, are filled with meaning. I grow muddled, stammer. I lose my place. My uncle shrieks—seizes, from his desk, a paperweight of brass, and throws it at me. That steadies me, for a time. But then he has me read, one night, from a certain work… Richard watches, his hand across his mouth, a look of amusement dawning on his face. For the work tells of all the means a woman may employ to pleasure another, when in want of a man.

'And she pressed her lips and tongue to it, and into it—'

'You like this, Rivers?' asks my uncle.

'I confess, sir, I do.'

'Well, so do many men; though I fear it is hardly to my taste. Still, I am glad to note your interest.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.